That broth flowed like balm to the right spot.

It was chicken broth.

When I guzzled the egg nog I would have bet ten to one on beating that fever in a week, and the next morning about 4:30, when there was competitive crowing by a hundred roosters, I was glad of the concert, for it gave assurance of a supply of chickens to keep up the broth and the eggs that disguised the whiskey.
Two days later I gave up the egg nog because it was too good for me.

I knew I did not deserve anything so nice, and suspected it was a beneficence associated with a cloud on my brow.

I had the approval of the hospital physician as to egg nog, and he cut off a lot of dainties sent by the Honolulu ladies, who must have imagined that I was one of the heroes of the war.